


Perfection Everlasting

by ActualLynx



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, Warhammer Fantasy
Genre: Alt-Power Taylor Hebert, Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualLynx/pseuds/ActualLynx
Summary: Taylor had a vision. She saw before her a ruined city, gasping for its final breath, and felt only the all-consuming desire to supplant it all with Eternity.Necrotect!Taylor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Perfection Everlasting

Most days, I managed to avoid my bullies.

Tripped, spit on, shoved, taunted—name it, and Sophia, Madison, and Emma have done it. I knew every hiding spot at Winslow High School, every trick there was to dodge them. From the supply closet underneath the stairs to the stalls in the bathroom, I knew them all.

Today, I hid in the library. Sometimes I couldn't get away, and sometimes I _had_ to let them catch me. If they didn't have an easy target, then they would—

I didn't let myself complete the thought. Suffice it to say; today would be one of those days.

"Oh, _Taylor_ ," Emma said with faux-sympathy during the lunch break, even going so far as to place a hand on my shoulder. "I knew you needed to lose weight—but to starve yourself? We all knew you had problems, and it's great that you finally understand that too, but who are you trying to impress, exactly?"

I stared vacantly at Emma's hand on my shoulder, and it tightened when no answer was forthcoming, preventing any escape. I hadn't bothered to bring lunch for a couple of weeks now, and my bullies had finally caught on. The truth was, I was never hungry anymore—it was a side effect of my powers, and food was now entirely optional.

I hadn't had anything to eat for weeks now, and the same went for water and sleep. The few times that the impulse to eat or drink came over me, it felt like dust on my tongue—my ability to taste, lost forever. Sleep, too, was a thing of the past, and my days were now much longer than they once were.

"Surely not any boy," Madison Clements, the constant hanger-on, said when I took too long to respond, "She's not pretty enough to be arm candy, and there certainly isn't enough going on in that head of hers to have a _good personality._ "

The petty jab made me twitch. I liked to believe my personality was one of my better qualities—my mind was my last sanctuary—and I shoved Emma's hand away forcefully. My features twisted into a scowl, and I took a deep breath to control my nerves. I didn't respond, though, for it would only have added fuel to the fire.

Emma didn't get the hint, or more likely, ignored it altogether. She smirked when Madison's barb struck true, and she hammered down on the point, rubbing salt in the wound. "Can you blame her for trying, Madi? Her Dad's a no-name clerk for a no-name agency, and her step-mom is a lazy deadbeat. With a family like that, it's no wonder she's starving herself."

The last of my bullies stepped up—Sophia Hess. Emma was as beautiful as any model, and Madison was pretty in that girl-next-door kind of way; Sophia, track star of Winslow High, was _hot._ I hated to admit it, but with her willowy limbs and simmering disposition, Sophia would have no trouble wrapping any boy she wanted around her fingers. _I_ , however, was most familiar with her tendency towards violence.

Sophia only proved her brutal nature when she shoved me from my chair in the library. "I wouldn't want to go home to a family like that, either." Sophia said, "Never thought I'd say this, Hebert, but you're doing the right thing. Keep on it."

The trio—my name for my bullies—laughed as I glared up at them from my place on the floor.

 _Disgust._ It was such a visceral feeling, and now it was one deeply rooted within my bones. How much longer could this state of affairs continue? How much longer until the bullying would end? It wasn't my bullies that I hated anymore; it was _myself_. I _hated_ myself for being so weak, for allowing them such power over me.

 _No longer_ would I tolerate this.

My fists clenched as I knelt on the floor. The flooring in the library was old, and original—a paper-thin carpet that might once have been blue, but was now closer to a crusty black. And it was wet, now, as a single tear, born of pure frustration and anger, splashed down on top of it.

"Pathetic, Hebert," Sophia said once she'd noticed.

" _Aww_ , she's crying!" Emma exclaimed excitedly, her face lighting up in a gleeful caricature of the happy little girl that was once my best friend. That betrayal still stung, but it felt only muted now, somehow absent inside the din of emotions bouncing around inside my head.

Madison only took a picture.

The laughter faded, and it was only belatedly, when the bell rang, signifying the end of the lunch break, that I noticed that they'd left. "Already had their fill for one day, I'm sure," I muttered beneath my breath.

No more pushing things back, no more procrastinating, or I would never be able to stand tall. Standing back up on shaky legs, I removed my glasses, wiped the tears from my eyes, and gently placed them back on my nose. 

As one last hoorah before they left for classes, the trio had strewn the contents of my backpack all across the floor, scattering everything all over the library. No librarian was in sight, undoubtedly taking a long lunch break, and there weren't any other students, either. Nobody at Winslow would waste their time around some books, not when they could spend it high. I gathered my things and left the library behind, never looking back.

There was no more point in finishing out the school day, not when there were more important things to accomplish.

Without a proper support network, the life of any new cape was a hard state of affairs. For me, that was especially the case. It was beyond even troublesome—my instincts told me to use my powers, but therein lay the problem. I _couldn't_ use them, not yet, but now that I'd found a new purpose, that would change.

I saw the world with new eyes. Winslow High School was Winslow High School, and nothing out of the ordinary happened anymore. It was a cesspit of human trash, the result of decades of urban decay, and there was no sympathy in the student body's eyes as they'd watched my bullies torment me in the halls. 

_No longer_ would I tolerate this.

Disgust was the only emotion worth feeling anymore, as I walked through the halls. The whole world now offended me. On a gut-wrenching level, it insulted me, ruining the very air that I breathed with its taint. Merely walking was a more laborious task then it should have been, it made me move much more sluggishly.

One would think that the burning of disgust—of such absolute loathing—wouldn't be such a great thing, but I welcomed the feeling. I embraced it, greeted it as an old friend, for it was better than the alternative. _Anything_ was better than the alternative.

Nobody bothered me on my way out the front door, as nobody cared enough to stop me. I wrinkled my nose at the school, surrounded and cut off from the rest of the city by a pathetic excuse for a wire fence, my disgust rippling beneath my skin like a bad itch.

Seeing the sneer on my face, those students of Winslow with aspirations for truancy, many of them open members of gangs, took it as a challenge and sneered right back at me. I ignored them all, for their opinions were beneath me now. The school, and all the people in it, didn't matter. It worked in my favor, though, and it wasn't long at all before I sat down on a bus.

All around me stood rotting corpses, formed from concrete and steel—buildings succumbing to the inevitable march of time and decay. Bars covered the windows of homes, and even most businesses, and the streets were plastered with deep holes and littered all about with trash.

So I would tear everything down. Every wrecked building and ruined street, every gang that skulked in dark alleyways, all would have to go. There was no other way, for without wiping the slate clean, there could be no hope for a better tomorrow.

 _No longer_ would I tolerate this.

**Author's Note:**

> I play too much Total Warhammer.
> 
> It might have a pairing, it might not. I haven't decided yet, but if this does, then it'll be femslash.


End file.
